


Mission Objective

by debwalsh



Series: Bingo-Bingo [8]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amnesia, Amnesiac Bucky Barnes, Amnesiac Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Established Relationship, Falling In Love, M/M, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Writing Prompt: Naked Man in My Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 14:33:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17851376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/debwalsh/pseuds/debwalsh
Summary: Steve wakes up to the luxurious sensation of a warm body and a hard dick pressed against his back.Which would be great if he knew who the guy was, or if, in fact, Steve was actually you know, gay.In which the voyage of discovery holds greater rewards than either of them could have guessed.  Plus naked cuddling.  And sex.  Lots of sex.A Fluff Bingo writing prompt, Finding You Naked in My Bed, written for my Patreon patron BethofAUS, and posted in honor of the opening of Browsing Week for the 2019 Fandom Trumps Hate auction -https://fandomtrumpshate.dreamwidth.org/.  I’m one of the creators participating in the 2019 auction.





	Mission Objective

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BethofAus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BethofAus/gifts).



> Yes, I am also madly working on my Stucky AU Big Bang art and story, but this came together at the perfect time, and I’ve been working on it for Beth since November. I’m really kind of in love with how it turned out.

Steve woke slowly, luxuriating in the floaty warmth of soft sheets, fluffy covers, and a smooth firm chest at his back, a strong arm over his waist, and a hard dick nestled firmly against his ass.   
  
Wait a sec.   
  
Was Steve gay?   
  
And why didn’t he know the answer?   
  
His eyes opened wide in panic.   
  
He didn’t know if he was gay.  He couldn’t remember. He couldn’t remember ... anything.  Other than the fact that his name was Steve, he was an adult male, and ... that was it.   
  
And he was naked, in a very comfy, very large bed, being spooned by an equally naked man, his morning wood pressing pretty insistently in his cleft, and damn if his dick wasn’t rising to the occasion.   
  
So, yeah, he was going to go with gay.  Bi, maybe, but definitely attracted to men.  A quick catalogue of himself confirmed that while he found himself sleeping with this man, they hadn’t actually slept together last night.  So, okay, Steve remembered, sort of, what it felt like after sex, and he didn’t feel like they’d had sex together last night. Maybe before, but not last night.   
  
Hmm, he was assuming they were more than a one night stand, but that felt right.  For some reason that eluded him now, he was sure that the man doing seriously incredible things to his body was someone he knew, cared about, maybe even loved?   
  
But why couldn’t he remember their shared past, or even what the guy looked like?  Or his name, for that matter? I mean, cuddling in bed isn’t usually something that happens between complete strangers, and yet, here they were.  And yes, there was definitely some cuddling going on as the man’s face smushed against his shoulder, dragging a wet kiss across his skin, his arm tightened around Steve’s middle, and yep, there was definitely some grinding happening too.  And damn, it felt good. He found himself sighing into it, pushing his ass back against the delicious friction of that dick rubbing gently - for now - against his crack.   
  
And then he realized that somebody sleep-grinding wasn’t exactly expressing explicit consent, and he stilled himself, jerking his hips away from the temptation of that insistent thrust.   
  
The man who held him whined softly in his sleep, his hand groping for purchase to nudge Steve’s hips back against him.   
  
And Steve realized he needed to face this, face the guy.  Needed to know what was going on. Why he couldn’t remember.  Why he was naked in bed with -   
  
The most beautiful man he’d ever seen, Steve realized as he sat up, pushing the arm around his waist away.  Dark, lustrous and tousled hair framed that beautiful face. Long dark lashes rested against pinked cheeks over high cheekbones.  His jaw was breathtaking, and his lips, parted in sleep, were voluptuous and sinful.   
  
And yeah, any thoughts he might not be attracted to men went right out the window as his dick rose to full mast even as the beautiful man dry humped his thigh.   
  
And the almost overpowering urge he had to slide back into the cocoon of warmth, kiss him senseless, and line up his dick and rut against that purpling, weeping cock until he blew his load all over those deliciously cut abs -   
  
And yeah.  Definitely of the gay persuasion.  And assuredly, Gorgeous Naked Guy really got Steve’s motor running.  But consent.    
  
Steve did the only sensible thing he could do.   
  
He jumped out of bed and left the guy stranded so he rolled over and smashed his face into the bed, effectively waking him up.   
  
Groggily, storm-swept gray blue eyes looked blearily at him, as that sinful mouth turned down in a frown.   
  
“What the fuck?” asked a deep, sleep-fogged voice that again went straight to Steve’s dick.  And then the guy demanded as he struggled to lift himself up on one elbow, “Who the fuck are you?”   
  
Yeah, that was a real mood killer.   
  
&&&   
  
“Wait.  You don’t remember anything either?” Gorgeous No Longer Naked Guy asked as he blew across the surface of the coffee Steve had suddenly remembered how to make.  In a kitchen he wasn’t sure was his, using a very expensive, very high end coffee contraption. Steve had found some clothes that looked like they would fit each of them in the dresser in the bedroom.  Both of them pulled on sweat pants hurriedly, but not without checking each other out as they did. The undercurrent of attraction was undeniable, but scary, too, considering their lack of context.   
  
“Bits and pieces are starting to come back.  Like, how to operate that monster,” he nodded back toward the coffee contraption.  “I remember my name - Steve.”   
  
“Bucky,” Gorgeous replied pointing toward himself, and then frowned. “What a fucking stupid name.  Who names a kid Bucky if they don’t fucking hate him?”   
  
“Maybe it’s a nickname.  But you know ... it feels like that suits you. Not in a negative way,” he was quick to clarify, “but like it’s a name that belongs to you.  I dunno. Maybe that means we know each other.”   
  
“Waking up with my dick in your crack, I fucking well hope so.”   
  
“So ... you’re gay, too?”   
  
“You mean would I bone you if I knew you?  Yeah. But not until I know for sure I’m not married or something,” he added, lifting his left hand up and realizing that it was metal for the first time.  “Jesus fuck, I’m a robot.”   
  
“Your arm.  Geeze, I hadn’t even noticed.  I mean, you’re so ... wow. You’re so wow,” Steve breathed, nodding to himself.   
  
“Well, you sure are good for a fella’s ego.  And wow yourself. Have you looked in a mirror lately?”   
  
“No-o-o. Is there something on my nose?”   
  
“I can think of a few places where I’d like to see that nose.  And those lips. But, yeah, figuring out what the fuck’s happening first.  But no, your nose is clean. And you’re a fucking Adonis, dude.”   
  
“Wow, thanks.  And yeah. I’d hate to fuck and find out we’re brothers or something.”   
  
“Well, neither of us could get pregnant, so no worries about two headed babies.  But I don’t disagree. Let’s put a pin in that, and revisit when we know more, huh?  Because, damn, son. The things I want to do to you.”   
  
“Are you objectifying me?”   
  
“Ten ways to Sunday.”   
  
“Okay.  Fair. So what do you remember?”   
  
Bucky took a sip of his coffee and pondered the question.  Steve hovered for a moment, trying to think of what he should do next.  Then he realized he was hungry, and suddenly he could picture Bucky eating a stack of waffles, dripping with melted butter and organic maple syrup.  He had the sudden impression that both of them had huge appetites, which was weird, considering how both of them were in such good shape.   
  
“Waffles?” he asked.   
  
“Yeah, sure, babe.  You know how I like ‘em,” Bucky answered absently, still staring into his mug.   
  
“Uh, ‘babe’?”   
  
“Huh? Oh. Well, shit.  Yeah, it just slipped out.  But it feels right. Then I guess we do know each other.”   
  
“Sounds like.”   
  
“You’ve got a ring,” Bucky nodded toward the plain silver band on Steve’s left hand.   
  
Steve looked down at his hand,  touched the ring with his right.  Frowning, he pulled it off and looked inside.  “ ... til the end of the line.” Then he narrowed his eyes and looked closer at Bucky’s hand.  “You have a ring, too.”   
  
Bucky held up the metal hand and stared at it like he expected it to pick a fight with him.  But then followed Steve’s example and tugged the ring off his metal finger, turning it so he could read the inscription.  “I’m with you ...”   
  
“I’m with you til the end of the line,” Steve put together, feeling something important fall into place.  “It’s what we say to each other.”   
  
Bucky’s brow furrowed further.  “We’ve been saying it for a long time.  Those words ... they mean something important.  Like, life and death important.”   
  
“They’re engraved in what look like wedding bands.”   
  
“We’re married to each other.”   
  
“Feels right.”   
  
“Yeah.  It does.  But there’s something else ...” the grumbling of Bucky’s stomach interrupted him, and they both chuckled.   
  
“Let me make the waffles.  Let’s eat, and then we can think about this more.”   
  
“Yeah, sounds good,” Bucky replied, but his frown still hadn’t lifted.  Steve wasn’t sure why, but if Bucky felt anything like he did, the whole thing was confusing and unsettling.  And there was something else, just out of reach. But, food first.   
  
&&&   
  
“I think I’ve loved you for a long time.  Like, a really long time. A weird long time,” Bucky was saying as they sat on the couch in the living - their living room? - trying to piece together some semblance of a reality.  Bucky had one leg tucked under the other, his metal arm draped across the back of the sofa as he half-faced Steve, who sat next to him, his body canted toward Bucky.   
  
“What’s weird about time?”   
  
“I dunno.  It’s just a feeling.  Like we’re not normal.  Like maybe super normal.  Sci-fi weird, I guess.”   
  
Steve reached up and laced his flesh fingers through Bucky’s metal ones.  “Okay. I’m not gonna argue that. I mean, I don’t think an arm like this is standard issue, huh?  And I don’t know if you noticed, but we eat way more than is normal. Way more.”   
  
“How do you know what’s normal?”   
  
“How do you?”   
  
“Touché.  Okay, so we’re not normal. And I think we’ve lived a crazy long time.  Or a lot of time has passed.” He was silent for a long moment, then blinked and looked at Steve in silence for a while.  “You were smaller. Weaker. Physically weak, sick. Nothing’s changed about your inner strength. Or how much I love that about you.”   
  
“You’re sure about this love thing?”  Bucky nodded gravely. “Good. Because I feel it, too.  Like, I was born loving you. And I’d die loving you. I’d die for you.”   
  
Bucky lifted his hand where it was joined with Steve’s.  “I think I did.”   
  
“Snow. Wind. A train,” Steve said suddenly, tears welling in his eyes.  “You fell. I couldn’t reach you in time. I lost you.” At that, a sob broke free, and Steve reached for Bucky, pulled him close.  Bucky went willingly, cradling the back of Steve’s head to press Steve’s face against his neck and shoulder. Steve’s arms wound round Bucky’s torso while Bucky’s arms circled Steve’s impressive shoulders.  They sat for a long time, cradling each other, sharing air and sharing strength.   
  
It was overwhelming, the sense of time passing, yet full of pain.   
  
Bucky broke the silence first, his voice raw and barely above a whisper.  “Bad things happened. Bad things happened to me. I ... was made to do bad things.  For a long time. And then we found each other again.”   
  
Steve nodded, sniffling.  He spoke quietly, softly. “I was missing. No, I deliberately tried to be missing. No ... dead.  I wanted to be dead if I couldn’t have you.”   
  
A wounded sound erupted out of Bucky, and the embrace shifted to a desperate need to touch, to reassure each other the other lived, was whole, warm and breathing.  Present. Suddenly their lips crashed together and they became lost in sensation, reaffirming their humanity, their love, their need for each other.   
  
&&&   
  
They were dozing, two large men entangled with each other, one blanketing the other on a couch not made for such activities.   
  
Their sweatpants were in a pile on the floor.  Bucky’d realized there was a plush and fuzzy throw conveniently located on the back of the sofa, and before succumbing to the post-coital haze, he’d pulled the throw down to cover their nakedness.  And then they’d slept.   
  
Steve stirred, his lips moving against the smooth expanse of Bucky’s chest.  He was waking up, and planted soft kisses in a trail from Bucky’s right nipple to his lips.   
  
“Wow,” Steve breathed against Bucky’s lips.  “No question we’re compatible.”   
  
“I think we can definitely say we fall in the fucking awesome category.  Damn, babydoll. What you do to me.” And Bucky could feel Steve’s interest forming up against his thigh, his own arousal becoming evident as well. “And apparently in addition to being hung like a goddamned stallion, you can get it up again already.  Pretty sure I hit the jackpot here.”   
  
Steve slotted his mouth over Bucky’s and smiled into a kiss.  “Pretty sure I’m the winner here. You are beautiful. And your fucking mouth ... so sinful.”   
  
At that moment, Bucky’s stomach gurgled again, and he chuckled against Steve’s kiss.  “What can I say? Lovin’ you takes a lot outta me - I got a big appetite.”   
  
“Yeah?  Well, the larder’s nearly bare.  Maybe we should get dressed and go shopping.  Stock up. And then stay in.”   
  
“Or we could just fuck until we die of starvation - wait, that sounded sexier in my head.  But ...”   
  
“What?” Steve asked, starting to kiss and lick his way back down Bucky’s chest, lingering over his nipples, pausing to nip at the swell of his pecs before making his way further south.  “Neither of us is gonna die, Buck. Not now, not ever. Not gonna let that happen. Not when there’s so much more I wanna do with you,” he said, slithering down further until he was nose to tip with Bucky’s cock.  He curled his hand around it, cradling it against his palm and then licked from root to tip before sucking the tip into his mouth.   
  
“Jehoshaphat!” Bucky swore nonsensically.  “Warn a fella, will you? And do that again, baby.  God, you do know what I like!”   
  
Steve grinned around the stretch, waggling his eyebrows before he held Bucky’s dick steady and sucked him down whole.   
  
&&&   
  
“C’mon, get dressed,” Bucky heard, a split second before he got smacked in the face with what he realized were his boxers.   
  
“What the fuck, Steve?” he grumbled, shaking his head to clear it.  He started to sit up, but fell back against the pillow and the arm of the sofa.  “Damn, you’re wearin’ me out, baby.”   
  
“That’s the hunger talking.  We both need to refuel. Which means we need to go get food.  Get dressed, grab your wallet, and let’s go. Sooner we leave, sooner we eat, sooner we get to fuck again.”     
  
Bucky chuckled, and sat up to accept the stack of clothes Steve tossed at him.  “I like your priorities. Okay, got shoes for me?”   
  
Steve nodded toward the floor where he’d placed them.  “Come on, get the lead out. Maybe we should find a diner first, eat, then shop, then fuck.”   
  
“Or we could eat, fuck, shop, fuck -“   
  
“Get dressed first!”   
  
In a few moments, they were both ready to go, and headed for the door.   
  
That wouldn’t open.   
  
Steve tried it.  Then Bucky frowned and came around to give it a try.  Another try. Then an examination of the hinges.    
  
“Is there a key?  I don’t remember - do we need a key to get out?  I don’t see a keyhole. I don’t see anything but the knob.  The hinges - there’s nothing to loosen. Look, maybe if we both pull on the door we can force it open -“   
  
“I’m sorry, sirs, but I cannot allow that,” a cultured British-sounding voice suddenly spoke.  “I cannot allow you to leave, nor can I allow you damage your apartment.”   
  
Both Steve and Bucky froze, their attention drifting upward.   
  
“Um, who’s there?” Steve asked.   
  
“You may call me JARVIS, sir.  Or J, if you prefer. I am the artificial intelligence responsible for managing this environment.  I apologize that I did not anticipate your caloric needs. Food is on its way from catering, and I have taken the liberty of repeating your last grocery order.  Your meals will arrive momentarily, and your groceries should arrive within the hour.”   
  
“But why can’t we leave?” Bucky pressed.   
  
“Because, sirs, you have not yet completed the mission.”   
  
&&&   
  
“What mission?”   
  
“I have been instructed that you will know the mission when you have achieved the objective, Captain.”   
  
“Captain?  Whaddya know, I got a military kink.  Got a uniform I can peel you out of?” Bucky snarked, more on automatic than anything.  Or so Steve assumed, because Steve didn’t consider house arrest a laughing matter.   
  
“I’m not a captain of anything.  I’m just -“   
  
“I’m sorry, Captain Rogers.  I’ve been informed by Sir that I’ve provided too much information already and I am no longer permitted to speak with you further.  Unless there is an emergency.”   
  
“There fucking well is an emergency!  You’re keeping us prisoners -“   
  
“Sir, I am not.  I have been instructed to allow you both sufficient recuperation time without outside influence.”   
  
“Because of the amnesia,” Bucky surmised.   
  
JARVIS was silent in response.  But just then, the door seemed to shimmer and dissolve in front of them, and a series of little robots glided in into the room, each laden with either covered trays or boxes filled with groceries.  The gap in the door closed as soon as the last robot wheeled into the apartment.   
  
The two robots carrying trays set them down on the counter, then each puttered around to arrange the food on the little table while the box robots quickly unpacked the groceries, torsos unfolding so they could reach upper cabinets, arms extruding so they could reach into the back of the cavernous refrigerator, an odd ballet of mechanical constructs twirling and whirring their ways around each other seamlessly.   
  
The tray robots had the food arranged on the table, with cutlery and place settings arranged.  One of them pulled a couple more items out of a little carry bag slung over its segmented “shoulder,” and suddenly the table was set with a single rose in a tall, slender vase, lit by a pair of tapers in modern-looking silver holders.   
  
“Sirs, if you please.  Dinner is served,” JARVIS announced dispassionately.  “You must keep your strength up if you are to recover fully.”   
  
The little robots, their work completed, swiveled around and headed toward the door again.  As each reached it, the opening formed, and the robot sailed through, then the opening closed like an iris until the next robot queued up.  Finally, there was only one left, and it hesitated, chirping softly to itself. Abruptly, it turned around and came over to where Steve and Bucky still stood in a sort of shocked daze.  The robot reached its pincered hand up to Bucky, and slid it into his prosthetic hand with a musical chirrup. Then it turned its mechanical head toward Steve, and extended its other appendage to him.  It pulled the two hands together so that the men were touching. It seemed to nod to itself then, and made another noise that sounded like approval. Then it dropped their hands and rolled quickly toward the opening that formed.     
  
Steve shifted his stance, preparing to leap forward, but Bucky laid his hand gently on his forearm and shook his head.  Steve straightened and looked at him quizzically.   
  
“JARVIS, are you surveilling us?” Bucky asked instead, watching the robot disappear through the gap, and the gap immediately solidify into the door again.  Gone was the flirty man of a moment before; he’d disappeared into the straight spine and steely gaze of a soldier.   
  
JARVIS was silent for a beat, two, three, and then finally answered, “I am not actively recording, no.  I am receiving data regarding your heart rates, body temperature, etc., however.”   
  
“Why?”   
  
“Health and safety metrics, Sir.”   
  
“Can you cease such data collection?”   
  
JARVIS was silent again, then finally answered, “Yes.”   
  
“Someone is giving you instructions as we speak,yes?  Who?”   
  
“Yes, sir.  My creator, sir.”   
  
“Okay. We want our privacy.  Complete privacy. But we’ll need you to release us when we’ve achieved the mission objective.  Can your response system be set on voice activation mode, based on a trigger phrase?”   
  
Another pause, and JARVIS replied, “Yes, sir.”   
  
“Excellent.  Then terminate all recording and data collection, recommence only upon voice command from me or Steve.  The trigger phrase will be ‘mission accomplished’.”   
  
JARVIS was silent, and then replied regretfully, “Sir notes that phrase is too commonly used, and could easily be deployed before the proper time.  He suggests instead, ‘Tony Stark is a genius’.’   
  
“Like fuck I’m saying that.  Stevie, promise you’ll cut out my tongue if I ever utter those be-damned words.”   
  
“Only if you promise to return the favor.  How about instead ... ‘Pepper Potts is a goddess’?”   
  
JARVIS paused for a moment before responding, “Sir says that is acceptable because it is 110% true.  Those are his words, not mine. Now, may I suggest that you two gentlemen sit down and enjoy your meal while it is both hot and fresh?”   
  
&&&   
  
“Any idea?” Bucky asked as he pushed a tiny potato around his plate.   
  
“Idea about what?” Steve replied, his fingers twirling the stem of his wineglass absently.   
  
“What the mission is.  What the fucking objective is.  How are we gonna finish a mission when we don’t even know what it is?  We barely have any clues about who we are.”   
  
Steve sighed deeply, watching the play of light in the deep red of the wine.  Next to the glass was a hammered metal flask filled with Asgardian mead - he’d added a few drops to his wine to spike the alcohol content to something he could feel.  Bucky’d done the same thing with his craft beer. It was nice to be able to drink and get a buzz, even for a brief time.    
  
And that was an odd memory, just like remembering Pepper’s name was.  Random bits and pieces were popping into his mind, like shrapnel. Disconnected, lacking any kind of unifying factor.  It wasn’t memories cascading one after another, it was a disconcerting jumble with no context to sort through the noise.   
  
“Steve? You there?  Babe -“ Bucky urged worriedly, and reached over to squeeze Steve’s hand, hard.   
  
Steve looked up, shook his head to clear the it.  “Sorry. Are you getting memories? Like junk just filling your head -“   
  
“And no way to tell if it’s important or random?  Yeah. Giving me a headache, to be honest. And I don’t think that’s something that happens often.”   
  
“No.  I think we’ve established that we’re enhanced in some fashion.  And can’t get drunk under normal circumstances -“   
  
“Which is why we both made a grab for the old bottle there.  It contains -“   
  
“Asgardian mead.  From actual Asgard,” Steve said, his voice a little strangled as he realized it was true.  He picked up the bottle and stared at it a moment before brandishing it at Bucky. “This booze is from another planet.  Buck, we know aliens. Actual fucking aliens.”   
  
“I keep thinking there’s no way this can get weirder, and then some bizarre image‘ll fill my head, or I can hear something strange.  Or a memory will just flash, and I’ll know with certainty that our lives are constantly weird.”   
  
“Yeah.  What you said earlier, about a lot of time.  We’re old. I mean, like over a hundred years each. We’re enhanced -“   
  
“You’re Captain America.  You were a stupid little shit who let some German scientist experiment on you -“   
  
“You were a prisoner of war -“   
  
“Who didn’t agree to have some German scientist experiment on me - “   
  
“He was Swiss,” Steve interrupted with certainty.  “Zola. Was Swiss.”   
  
“He was a sick fucking bastard. He cut off my arm.  He ... oh God, I don’t want to remember that. Quick, kiss me - distract me from the memory -“   
  
Steve was quick to comply, laced his fingers with Bucky’s, and reached over with his free hand to cup the back of Bucky’s neck to draw him closer.  Their lips met and Bucky kissed him desperately, trembling with the onslaught of memory. Steve could taste salt, tears that streamed down Bucky’s face as the memory intensified.  He shifted slightly so he could deepen the kiss, slip his tongue along the soft curve of Bucky’s lips. Bucky opened his mouth hungrily, and suddenly they were moaning against each other’s mouths as their tongues danced and dueled with each other.   
  
“I need you to fuck me,” Bucky gasped against Steve’s lips.     
  
“But dinner -“   
  
“Can be reheated.  Got enough fuel. Fuck me, big guy. Make me forget again, Steve.  Come on -“   
  
Bucky’s words were cut off when Steve surged out of his chair and bodily lifted Bucky out of his.  Bucky wrapped his legs around Steve’s torso and ground down against Steve’s very hard dick as he resumed kissing him urgently.  Growling his approval, Steve dug his fingers into the meat of Bucky’s ass to stabilize his grip, and walked the two of them toward the bedroom.  He tossed Bucky on the bed, grinning as he bounced with a yelp. But Bucky recovered quickly, eeled his way up the bed to tear open the drawer and pull out a brand new bottle of lube that he tossed at Steve.  Then he stripped out his clothes with military efficiency and precise aim - his clothes all ended up in the chair on the other side of the room.   
  
Steve was still pulling his pants down when Bucky slithered down the bed, gorgeously naked again, and reached up to palm at Steve’s dick.  “C’mon baby. I need you. I need this monster in me and I need you to fuck me til I can’t remember again. C’mon, Steve!” he demanded, slapping Steve’s hands away from his waistband so he could just shove the jeans down so Steve could step out of them.  “Off, off!” he added, rucking up Steve’s shirt so it bunched up under his arms. Steve ripped it off, shoved Bucky back onto the bed, and then crawled up his husband’s body until he hovered over him, catching his entire body in shadow.   
  
Then he lowered himself inch by agonizing inch, accompanied by a litany of encouragement and curses as he held Bucky’s hands up over his head.  Finally, he was low enough for the tip of his leaking cock to brush against the drooling head of Buck’s, and they both hissed at the contact. Bucky’s hips bucked up, smearing a line of pre-cum across Steve’s thigh. And then he lowered himself so their dicks lined up, reached down to smooth the blurt of pre-cum down their lengths so he could jerk them both off quick and rough.  He had a vague thought that he should have used lube, but the pair of them were leaking enough that he could gather it with his thumb and use it to ease the way. The slight sting felt good, felt like it focused the pleasure, heightened it.    
  
He brought them off fast and hard, and while Buck was gasping for breath, his beautiful chest heaving, his gorgeous abs contracting, Steve slid down his body, licking up their combined spend as he went.  Then patted the bed in search of the lube bottle, and Bucky had the presence of mind to roll it toward him.   
  
That wouldn’t do.  He wasn’t going to be done until he’d made Bucky fuck-drunk and unable to form coherent thoughts.  He flipped open the cap, drizzled lube over his fingers, and then looked up at Bucky’s hooded eyes through the thatch of thick, wiry hair at the base of his dick.  Smiling possessively, he reached behind Bucky’s balls with his lubed hand, while he grasped Bucky’s dick with the other and held it steady so he could take it all in one momentous gulp.   
  
Bucky screamed his name, and Steve smiled around the stretch.  That’s all he wanted to hear until Bucky chose to tap out, or passed out from pleasure.   
  
&&&   
  
Bucky woke up much, much later to the sensation of pleasant bonelessness, and a deep ache in his ass that made him want to wriggle in satisfaction.  His Steve never met a challenge he didn’t smash, and he’d risen - repeatedly - to the challenge of fucking Bucky senseless with great dedication, passion, and hips that wouldn’t quit.  Bucky felt fucked out and spent in the best possible way.   
  
But even though he probably couldn’t get it up for a a little while at least, he was disappointed to wake up to an empty bed, without the possibility of cuddles and kisses.   
  
But then, Steve walked into the room, carrying the dining room table with the leaves down - it wouldn’t fit through the door in its normal state.  Bucky was gratified to note that Steve was redecorating in the nude, so he just laid back and enjoyed the view of his delicious husband and his incredible body.   
  
“I dunno about you, but I’m starving again.  So I thought we could finish our dinner, y’know?”   
  
“Must be cold by now,” Bucky commented, wriggling slightly as he felt a trickle of come slide out of his ass.  Oh yeah. Lube, yes. Condoms, no. The memory was hot, and he felt a little twitch of interest in his dick. No energy to do anything about it, but he was glad to know his dick wasn’t broken by too much pleasure.   
  
“Microwave and toaster over.  I’ll be right back. You feelin’ better?”   
  
“I may need another treatment after we eat. But I’m good for now,” he grinned at Steve.  Who ducked his head shyly, like he hadn’t reamed Bucky’s ass so hard, fast, and long that he’d wrung at least five orgasms out of Bucky on his dick alone.   
  
“Whatever you need, babe.  Whenever you need it,” Steve promised fervently.   
  
“Go.  Get food, bring it back, feed your mate.  And bring a coupla wipes. Got a leakage situation.   
  
Steve honest to God blushed at that, but he nodded, and hurried out to do Bucky’s bidding.   
  
Bucky laid there and worked on his mollusk impression, as he waited for his husband to cater to his every whim, and wondered how he’d gotten so lucky to end up married to Steve Rogers.   
  
&&&   
  
“Any ideas yet?” Bucky asked after he licked Steve’s fingers clean from feeding him while he lazed in bed.  The rest, the food, and the attention were all working to bring certain parts of his anatomy back to life. He snuggled down in bed with a self-satisfied smirk, feeling like he might never want to leave this apartment again.  Not if food was delivered and Steve was on hand to take care of him the way he’d been doing the past few hours.   
  
“It’s gotta have something to do with us, don’t you think?  I mean, maybe a mission we’ve been on, or -“   
  
“No.  No, I don’t think it’s an Avengers mission.  Yeah, Avengers. Collection of super-powered assholes here in the future.  We both work with them. You first, then me when I got better -“   
  
Steve shut him up with a tongue filled kiss.  “No bad memories,” he whispered against Bucky’s lips.   
  
“Okay,” Bucky agreed with a besotted smile. “But if the mission objective was something to do with them, I don’t think anybody woulda tolerated the pair of us spending so much time having sex, y’know?”   
  
“Yeah.  Yeah, you’re right.  So the mission objective is something to do with us.  Sex pollen shit, maybe?”   
  
“How’d that cause amnesia?”   
  
“Misdirected magic blast?”   
  
“That could cause the amnesia, but where’s the mission objective?”   
  
“Okay.  I’m kind of out of ideas.  About missions, anyway.”   
  
“Ready to go again?”   
  
“Are you?”   
  
“Hey, all I gotta do is lay back and let you have your way with me.  You don’t even gotta use any slick - I’m ready to go.”   
  
“Jesus, I’m so lucky you’re insatiable.”   
  
“Doll, I ain’t never gonna get enough of you. Now less talk, more fuck.”   
  
&&&   
  
Steve laid in bed, Bucky cradled in his arms, and tried to think what their mission objective could be.  Something specific to the two of them, something that required recovery.    
  
Hydra, maybe?  Had they been captured?  Brainwashed? Had they ... were there ... “JARVIS?  Can you tell me if anyone was hurt because of our mission?”   
  
The AI was silent, and the only sound in the room was the even breathing of the man in his arms.   
  
At JARVIS’s continued silence, Steve asked again,”JARVIS, I need to know.  Where any civilians injured ... or worse ... because of us?”   
  
A moment’s more silence, and then JARVIS blessedly broke through it.  “I am instructed to tell you that there have been no casualties, no injuries, to the civilian population as a result.”   
  
“And the Avengers?  Our allies?”   
  
Again, the wall of silence, but after a few moments, JARVIS relented, a hint of relief in his voice when he replied, “Sir says that no physical damage has been sustained as a consequence.”   
  
“No physical damage,” Steve whispered back to himself.  “Emotional?” he asked JARVIS.   
  
This time the silence dragged on with no break.   
  
“Okay,” Steve said in a small voice.  “Tell whoever I hurt that I’m sorry, JARVIS.  I ... I can’t imagine ...”   
  
Bucky shifted then, turning slightly in Steve’s arms so his face was smushed against Steve’s neck, and his leg thrown over Steve’s thigh.  He could feel the insistent press of Bucky’s dick as he rutted against Steve in his sleep. He turned his face to kiss the hair spilled across Bucky’s face, lifted his hand to smooth it back, a small affectionate smile touching his lips.  “God, I love you, Buck.”   
  
“Then show it,” Bucky muttered wetly against Steve’s neck.   
  
“You can’t possibly want ... again?”   
  
“Feelin’ kinda empty, babydoll. Need a big, strong superhero to fill me up,” he answered, lifting his head and settling his chin on Steve’s sternum.  “Up for it, big guy?”   
  
“Superhero, huh?”   
  
“That’s what they call you.  ‘The First Avenger,’ ‘the Sentinel of Liberty,’ and all that happy horseshit.  To me, you’re just Snookums. And if you don’t start doing somethin’ with that dick of yours, I’m gonna climb you and ride you til you’re screaming my name, baby.  Are we on the same page?”   
  
Steve snickered and nodded.  “Always.”   
  
&&&   
  
“So, far as I can tell, we’ve been holed up here what - two days?  World’s doin’ okay without us, I guess.”   
  
“Yeah, I guess,” Steve agreed as he stripped the bedding from the bed - the crunchy, stained, kinda funky smelling, probably needed to be burned bedding.  “Hand me the fresh sheets.”   
  
“We should invest in rubber, y’know?  Fuck, make a mess, pull it off and toss it, add another.”   
  
“You really think we normally fuck this much?”   
  
“I can’t imagine we don’t.  I mean ... look at you. And look at me.  We fit together so nicely. Why’d we ever be apart?”   
  
“Well, I’m guessing this superheroing thing probably cuts into our fuck time.”   
  
“Eh.  World can take care of itself,” Bucky replied, waving his hand to pitch Steve’s statement into the bin where it belonged.  He dropped into the chair in the corner of the room, chewing at his thumbnail while he watched Steve make the bed. Neither of them had gotten dressed, although they’d taken a break to shower and give each other blowjobs, so the view was just fine.   
  
“Can it?  I mean, the Avengers exists for a reason.  I became Captain America for a reason.”   
  
Bucky snorted.  “You became Captain America because you were a headstrong little shit who didn’t know when the world was doin’ him a favor, Steve.”   
  
“Weren’t no favors with a bum ticker and lungs about to give out.”   
  
“Caught you a 4F, and knowing you were safe at home was good enough for me.”   
  
“Really?  We’re gonna talk about whether it was a good idea for me to get the serum?  If I hadn’t -“   
  
“I’d’a been alone here in the future, I know.  ‘Cos by the time you were Erskine’s lab rat, Zola’d already been given me his knockoff serum.  I’d’a been here with or without you. And while I ain’t sorry we’re together, I still don’t approve of volunteering for a fucking experiment that could’a killed you easy as it made you into this,” Bucky concluded, waving his metal hand to encompass Steve’s physique and presumedly his little-shittedness.   
  
“Would’a died before I was 30, Buck. Erskine didn’t just gimme a chance to serve.  He gave me a future. I didn’t have much’a one before that chamber.”   
  
“Would’n’a done you any good if that grenade’d been live, would it, sport?” Bucky snapped back, irritated as the memory surfaced.  “Gettin’ beat up in back alleys wasn’t good enough for you, huh? Y’hadda take it to the front. Hadda make yourself a big fucking target,” Bucky’s voice grew in volume as he levered himself from the chair and stalked across the room, his irritation growing with each step.   
  
Steve straightened from where he was tucking the sheet in and stared at Bucky.  He shook his head and chuckled. “Nobody had any trouble finding me when I was small.  Don’t know that I was so much more of a target when I got big. And either way, I still had you to watch my back.”   
  
And that just seemed to ignite a spark inside Bucky, fueling an ire that surprised him.  “Pretty sure I wasn’t there when you jumped on a grenade. Or out of a plane without a chute.  Or -“   
  
By now, Bucky had crossed the room and Steve backed up with his shins pressed against the bed, and he poked an unyielding metal finger into Steve’s chest with each word.  Bucky felt each strike like sparks off an ignition plate, his frustration and anger swelling with each moment.   
  
“Ow.  And ow again.  Geeze, Buck, you got a helluva left jab there.  And what the hell, huh? Where’d all this come from?  I thought we get gettin’ ready to go at it again, not fight.”   
  
“Memory’s a bitch, pal.  Bits and pieces keep coming back.  And I remember how much you pissed me off.  And how ... nothing’s fucking changed,” he added, suddenly deflated.   
  
“Whaddya mean, nothing’s changed?” Steve asked, dropped the sheets and shuffled forward to slide his hands up the expanse of Bucky’s chest.  Steve’s hands were warm and strong, yet somehow cooler than the fire blazing inside, and they felt amazing on Bucky’s skin. But not amazing enough, not enough to quell the anger that coursed through him as memories resurfaced.   
  
“Just ‘cos we’re fucking doesn’t give you a pass, punk.”   
  
“Seriously, Buck, what’s gotten into you?”   
  
Bucky swept off Steve’s hands with brush of his metal arm.  “What’s gotten into me? Look around, Steve. Notice anything?  Like, where’s my stuff? Where’s my clothes, my shaving kit? Pictures of us together?  Mister Binkie?”   
  
“Mister B ... oh, your bear. The bear I won at -“   
  
“Yeah.  My bear.  My clothes.  My stuff. My life.  Where is it?”   
  
“I, uh ... huh.  I dunno. I didn’t realize.  I didn’t remember. Where is your stuff?”   
  
“In my apartment.  Two floors up. I moved out, Steve.”   
  
“No.  Why would you?  We’re married -“   
  
“I ain’t watching you kill yourself, punk.”   
  
“Kill myself?  Buck, I’m not suicidal.  Some risks are worth taking -“   
  
“That’s bullshit and you know it.  You been tryna prove yourself since you were three and Pauly Abernathy tried to swipe your milk money.  You ain’t never stopped,” Bucky spat, more resigned and sad than angry any longer.   
  
“Buck, I don’t understand.  A minute ago you were -“   
  
“A minute ago I didn’t remember.  Now I do. I remember how you keep running headlong into danger, disregarding safety protocols and putting your life at risk. And the tenser things got between us, the more reckless you became. I finally reached the point where I just couldn’t have a front row seat on you killing himself anymore.  So I filed for divorce. I’m only living in the tower until I get my next place sorted - far away from New York, far away from your grave.”   
  
“You ... filed for divorce?” Steve echoed, his voice hollow and lost.  “But we love each other.”   
  
“Yeah.  We do. But it’s not enough.  It’s not enough for you to wanna come home safe to me.  And it’s not enough for me to wait until I welcome home a corpse.  You’re enhanced. You’re not indestructible. You’re not immortal. And if you keep putting yourself in the way of every bullet coming your way, every fucking building about to fall, every alien with a new way of killing, some day you’re not coming home, Steve.  And I don’t think I could survive that,” Bucky choked on the words, and his face grew ruddy as tears streamed down his face.   
  
“I ... fuck,” Steve swore, and he sat down heavily on the edge of the bed.  Bucky would have to be dead inside if he said he didn’t notice how Steve’s junk hung over the edge of the bed, how bereft and suddenly small Steve looked.  How much he longed to comfort him, kiss him, fuck him, but he knew that would only encourage more of same behavior that had driven the wedge between them in the first place.   
  
“It was nice to have a chance to revisit loving you, Steve.  But it only makes it harder to think about losing you. I do love you, I do.  I just ... I just can’t be the one to bury you.”   
  
Steve was just staring at the floor, a vacant look in his eyes at tears fell, unbidden.  His hands hung limp against his knees, and Bucky was shocked at how different Steve looked.  Like he was gone already, and Bucky was talking to his corpse. There was no dynamic energy in those incredible muscles, no life dancing behind those blue eyes.  Bucky knew he had to leave, knew he had to cut the umbilical, but looking at Steve now, he wasn’t sure how he could.   
  
“Steve?” he prompted softly.  “Steve, did you hear what I said?”   
  
“I was afraid,” Steve replied, equally softly, not lifting his eyes, not showing any emotion at all save for the tears that continued to fall.  “I was so afraid of having to live without you again, I’ve been ... I’ve been taking risks so I won’t have to watch you go again. I just couldn’t face the idea of even a day without you.”  Steve lifted his face then and looked directly at Bucky, directly into his eyes. With a start, Bucky realized he’d crossed the room back to Steve and crouched down so he was face to face with him, his flesh hand resting lightly on Steve’s thigh.  “Death by villain was a better choice than living without you.”   
  
The admission punched the breath and the fight out of Bucky.  He felt with absolute certainty that this was the first time they’d ever discussed this.  Oh, there’d been yelling. There’d been throwing things. There had been magnificent and epic make-up sex.  But there had never been a quiet, calm discussion, there’d never been any chance of understanding with pain, and blame, and anger ruling everything they did, everything they said.    
  
And now, in this room that still reeked of their joyous couplings, where words of love and passion still whispered on the walls, Bucky had lanced his heart and bled out truth.  And Steve had listened, and offered his own truth in exchange. And Bucky could only say one thing to that.   
  
“You are an idiot.”  Even as he said it, he felt an ember of hope begin to catch in his chest.   
  
“I don’t think I can argue that.  I feel like I’ve been in panic mode for so long, I haven’t been able to think straight.”   
  
Bucky snorted at that.  “You’re the greatest living military mind of the past what - four generations?”   
  
“You bring out the little kid in me, Buck.  I get Buck-stupid. But I can see now that I’ve just been stupid stupid.”   
  
“Well, yeah.  So now what?”   
  
“I think maybe you had the right idea.”   
  
“Divorce?” Bucky asked flatly, feeling that hope stutter.   
  
“Retire.”   
  
Steve said the simple word with a voice full of wonder, and his eyes were wide with surprise.  And Bucky felt that tiny spark of hope ignite and spread from the center of his being to the tips of his extremities.   
  
“Don’t fuck with me.  Tell me you mean that.”   
  
“I mean it.  Life isn’t worth living without you, Buck.  I remember now, Buck - I thought you. stopped loving me.  I thought you didn’t want me anymore. When you moved out ... I thought the serum failed.  I couldn’t breathe, my heart, it ... it broke, I swear, it was damaged beyond repair. But these last couple of days, having the chance to rediscover just how much I love you, just how good we are together ... I’m not giving it up, not for anyone.  I choose you, Buck.”   
  
“Then I guess you’re just gonna have to kiss me to seal the deal.  And then I expect the most epic fuck of my very long life. ‘Cos, babydoll, I choose you, too.”   
  
&&&   
  
It was another two days before they uttered the words that unlocked their confinement.  By that time, they’d spent the majority of their time in bed, but aa small portion eating and refueling so they could go back to bed.  And, after spending some time cleaning up after themselves and airing the bedroom out as much as they could, they spent a bit of time researching their options for the future.     
  
While they’d been separated, Bucky had been researching where he could move to put as much distance between him and the anticipated demise of Captain America.  They both had their own significant nest egg, between back pay, brilliant investments guided by Ms. Virginia “Pepper” Potts, so money wasn’t an impediment. Bucky had been looking at a place on a tiny island off the coast of Greece.  It was an area they’d never visited with the Commandos, and it was also a location never infiltrated by Hydra. It was a simple place with a lifestyle anchored in tradition, yet embracing the modern world. At least that’s what the Internet ad said, and Bucky had flown there to check it out, and discovered that sometimes, there really is truth in advertising.  He’d checked out the home for sale and fallen in love with it on sight. He’d tamped down the thoughts of how Steve would love it, but now that Steve had used the “r” word - and continued to use it - Bucky excitedly shared all his impressions, his plans, his excitement.   
  
And Steve caught the bug and clicked through the images online, noting how he’d use space, and how pure the light looked and when could they go together.   
  
And Bucky had finally taken his hands in his, looked him in the eye, and smiled.  He leaned forward to brush a kiss against Steve’s lips and said, “Pepper Potts is a goddess.”   
  
Steve’s smile broke free into a full blown grin.  “She certainly is.”    
  
And with that, the door clicked open.     
  
“Gentlemen, if you would, I have alerted Sir and the team that you have achieved your mission objective.  They are assembling in the lounge area of the communal floor, and are awaiting your arrival.”   
  
“Thanks, JARVIS.  We’ll be right there.”   
  
&&&   
  
Steve wasn’t sure what to expect when they got to the lounge, but the silent, beaming smiles directed at them wasn’t it.  He and Buck walked in hand in hand, and that sight seemed to inspire not just smiles, but tears, too.   
  
And that’s when he realized just how lucky he was to have these crazy people in his life.  He’d finally figured out what happened, and he naturally sought out Wanda. Catching her eye, he nodded and mouthed, “Thank you.”  Her smile broadened even as the tears fell faster, her sobbing audible across the room. Her reaction confirmed his suspicions - she’d used her abilities to trigger amnesia so he and Bucky could have an opportunity to rediscover their love without the baggage of their fights and separations.  It had helped them to put things into proper perspective, and find their way out of what had promised to be a lifetime of misery.   
  
It had helped them find each other again, and for that alone, he would be eternally and immutably grateful.   
  
But first, they had to face their friends with their news.   
  
“So,” Tony greeted from where he stood behind the bar, surprisingly still and serene.   
  
“So,” Steve greeted, feeling suddenly unsure - not of his and Buck’s decision, but of saying goodbye in any way to these people - Wanda, Pietro, Sam, Nat, Bruce, Thor, Tony, Pepper.  Even Rhodey and Hill were there. It was fitting, he guessed.   
  
“So, there’s no divorce, but there will be a move,” Bucky announced, lifting their joined hands to brush a kiss over Steve’s knuckles.     
  
“And there will be a ... retirement,” Steve added, leaning in to place a soft kiss on Bucky’s cheek.   
  
“Well, it’s about time,” Pepper declared.   “I’ll alert PR to start framing the announcement of your retirement.  Steve, James, I couldn’t be happier for you. Now, see what you can do about convincing Tony to take the same route, hmm?”   
  
Steve glanced over at Tony and nodded.  “You should listen to her, Tony. She’s a goddess, after all.”   
  
Tony’s answer was to grin broadly, then lift a magnum of champagne from the bar, and the pop the cork, loudly and with great ceremony.  The others cheered, and suddenly the room was full of eager and happy voices all tumbling over each other, filling the space and the air in his lungs with joy.   
  
But not as much as the simple squeeze of Bucky’s fingers against his made him feel.    
  
All it took was a little amnesia, and some naked honesty, to achieve their mission objective and bring them both home, to each other.   
  
END

**Author's Note:**

> I’m becoming addicted to writing prompts, and I’ve decided I won’t be doing as many bangs in future so I can devote more time to my WIPs and new writing prompts. I hope you agree.
> 
> As always, comments, kudos, bookmarks are all very, very welcome!


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